


Boredom Sex in New New York

by Crystal Dream (Astral_Hummingbird)



Category: Futurama
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Drugged Sex, F/M, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Loud Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, toe fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astral_Hummingbird/pseuds/Crystal%20Dream
Summary: Philip Fry and Amy Wong were hanging out at her apartment after she’d asked him to come over and move some furniture around. Fry, having nothing better to do agreed eagerly. Now that it was all over, he had no regrets. It wasn’t that big of a deal.(Shhh. There's butt sex.)
Relationships: Philip J. Fry/Amy Wong
Kudos: 7





	Boredom Sex in New New York

Amy and Fry just sat in front of the video screen for ten minutes flipping channels. He’d come over because she asked him to move some stuff around. And he was only too happy to help. After all, Fry was one of those people with a dual goal: making everyone around him happy and getting into Amy Won’s pink pants!

“There’s nothing to watch,” whined Amy. “Nothing to do.” Flip. Flip. Flip. Fry perked up and said, “Wanna get fucked up? I’ve got a bottle of José Servo Tequila in my bag.” Amy’s eyes brightened up. “Tài bàngle! I’ve got some bottles of Olde Fortran in the fridge. Also, I’ve got these.” She opened the drawer of the end table beside the couch and pulled out a sandwich bag of around fifty blue pills. “I don’t know what they are. The guy I was with Wednesday night left them here. Wanna find out?”

“Sure!” said Fry, cracking open the bottle of tequila. This was about to get interesting.

Fry pulled off his hooded sweatshirt and then he reached over and grabbed Amy’s pink hoodie. She resisted for a second, then let him continue. Fry didn’t understand why she was reluctant at first. Then as the sweatshirt rode up, and as he was expecting to see an undershirt, all he saw was flabby brown flesh, the curves of her C-cup tits and surprisingly, her dark brown nipples.

“Oh, boy, Amy!” he gasped. “What the florg happened to your shirt?!” She tittered, “I don’t wear one, asshole. My father always hated the way I dressed, so I always tried to make sure I could make him hate me more.” She shrugged off Fry’s oggling eyes. She’d seen this act before. She turned away and shrugged. One hand went to cover a breast, but she pulled it down. What did it matter?

Amy reached into the bag of unknown blue pills and popped two into her mouth. She leaned over Fry’s lap as she held the pills in her mouth and grabbed his bottle out of the bag. She took a big swig of Fry’s tequila. She gulped and leaned back on the couch. She pulled a lighter off of the coffee table. Then she lit up a cigarette that was tucked under the lamp. Flick. Smoke. As the chemicals swirled through her brain, Amy let out a contented sigh. “Fuuuuuuccck….”

Never one to miss a beat, Fry pulled off his own shirt, downed another two blue pills and took a long pull of the bottle. The tastes and the feelings rushed through him. Chemicals crashed together. 

Fry never was a party guy, even back in the 90s. Now he had to deal with all this alien shit. His inner “good” voice yelled at him. He realized that he’d done something stupid! Again! The wiggling feelings crept through his brain like nothing he’d ever felt before. It was so… “It’s so, florg. Isn’t it Amy?” he said.

“What? Are you still here? Shit, I thought you were gone,” Amy said. “Gimmie another hit of that horrid garbage you brought.” Amy proceeded to take a manly chug from the bottle.

“If it’s so horrid, why are you drinking it?” Amy looked at him. Her eyes were already glazed. “It’s alcohol, asshole. Duh! Duh… du… ohhhh.” She lost all track as the mystery alien pills fractured her synapses.

Now it was Amy’s turn to shudder as indescribable things happened inside her brain. “Um. Fry… Um. I don’t feel right.” She looked over at him. “Fry? What’s going on?” Fry replied, “AFGRGLE” as the pills swirled through his own brain. With his last conscious thought he cried out, “Amy, you stupid cunt! What the fuck are these pills?!”

“Ah… They’re, like, blue? I dunno.” 

Time shifted as the two of them blacked out. Who knows how much time passed in the darkness? Fry slowly pulled his brain out of the thick, gray oatmeal that had flopped upon it. He barely understood what was going on. All he could see was brown, And it was… chubby.

It took another couple of minutes for his brain to pull things together. He saw… feet? “Hmph, yeah,” he thought. “Feet.” He played with them for a minute, his brain whirling and chaotic with sounds and colors. He could see music. He could hear purple. He could smell… 

Then he realized he could smell Amy’s feet. He tried to look up at her, to see her status. All he could tell was that she was zoned out and drooling, no better than he was. He also realized that somewhere along the way, she’d lost her pink pants, too. Amy Wong was totally butt-assed naked!

He decided to play around. “Oh, look at those piggie toes! Just look at those little pigie toes!!” he giggled. He flicked them and caressed them. He even admired the quality work that Amy’s pedicurists did. Every toe was pink, of course. But he admired that every toe had its own little symbol painted on it. It was just a fleck here or there, but they were all different. He had to admire that. He admired the feel of the plumpness. He admired… Oh fuck it!

Fry popped the two biggest toes of Amy’s left foot into his mouth and he licked them. Amy let out a grunt. Then after a moment of silence, she gave a low, long groan of pleasure. He kept licking, first one toe, then the other. He was surprised when he licked the tip of her fourth toe and she let out a grinding moan. He’d never heard anything like it before, except, you know in robot porn. (But they were all artificial, so it didn't count.) He continued to lick that tiny little point and Amy just kept moaning and moaning. “Wǒ hǎo jīdòng,” she cried out. 

Fry, in his mind, was content to just listen to his coworker moan in her half-deluded sleep. He kept it up for who knows how many minutes, Amy moaning and whimpering all the time. But then, some deeper feeling came over him and in a blur, that feeling took control.

He stood and flicked on the lamp in the bedroom. (How the flarg had they made it into the bedroom?) He looked at the end table. There were two latex cocks, an empty bottle of whiskey, a lamp, a jar of some kind of green goo, and a branded bottle of sex lubricant.

Fry smiled and looked down on Wong’s unconscious body. The devil was in him and his penis was erect! He slathered the jelly on his dick as he looked at her. Legs, ass back neck, wild-assed hair. It was all his, and she had no choice in the matter. No choice at all!

Fry lay on top of her body and fisted his cock. His only goal was the brown ring. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever done this before. But then again, thanks to these pills, he couldn’t remember his own name, either. Or who this person was below him. Or whose hand that was. Or… or what he was doing.

But he knew what it felt to have that hole resist the head of his cock. And then the even bigger push as it plunged right into the hilt!

Amy screamed. “AHHHH! Whadurudoing?! Wǒ de pìgu. Ahh. No. No... noooo…..” Then she fell silent. Fry didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything or anyone. All that mattered to him was the feel of his cock plunging into this woman’s asshole over and over again.

Fry rode her shithole for thirty minutes! He was dripping sweat by the end. All his cock wanted to do was ejaculate, but the damage the drugs had done to his brain was catastrophic. Then suddenly… without any warning… the heat flew through him. “Ah, ah, Amy! Take it! Take my shit! Take it you fucking whore!!”

The universe exploded around him. Unfortunately, his mind wasn’t anywhere around to feel it.

Dawn broke. Amy got up to pee, barely even knowing what she was doing. The body was like that. She returned to see a man in her bed. She stood by the side of the bed for a full thirty seconds, trying only to pull the name of this naked man into the forefront of her mind.

“Philip?” she said. She knew that didn’t sound right, but it was close. “Philip! Get up!” Fry rolled over. “Yeah? Wazzup?” Amy sat down on the bed. “I, ah, have no idea. Things are pretty glarked, even for me. Do you remember anything?”

Fry spent a minute thinking. “You have pink toes, I think? Otherwise, I have no idea.”

Amy Wong nodded. She sighed. Her brain was throbbing. Then she shook her head in confusion. “Well, none of that explains why my asshole is so slimy!”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't do drugs, but I've had a few nights that were a little close to this. This is as far into rape fantasy as I'm prepared to go. Also, let this be a warning to you all: Never, ever do drugs that you have no idea what they are.


End file.
